


Helpless To The Bass And The Fading Light

by thisaintascene



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:10:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisaintascene/pseuds/thisaintascene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have a very infuriating neighbour and very thin walls and one day I call you and err your moans are very synchronised with my neighbour’s” Sex Line Operator AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sound of the clock on your nightstand, ticking the seconds meticulously, resounds in your head as it echoes in the stillness of your room. You spare a glance in its direction.

23:46

It’s not even late. But you’re aware you should be fast asleep by now, otherwise there’s no way in hell you’ll be awake tomorrow at a reasonable hour. But your stupid brain seems to be _very_ enthusiastic tonight. 

Ugh, it’s all your friends’ fault.

_Assholes._

You turn again for the twenty sixth time. You’ve been counting. That’s what insomnia and sexual frustration does to you. God, you’re weak.

But then again, if LaF and Danny hadn’t started talking about… sex phone lines? Is that even what it’s called? If they _hadn’t_ , you would not be thinking about whether that was the correct or incorrect term right now. And also, you would not be thinking about… calling one. Because you have respect for woman, you’re a feminist! And definitely not someone who would even think about degrading women like that. 

You’re not a pervert.

Except, when you said that to your friends, they had told you that it wasn’t like that. 

You understood though, it was a job. Just like any other. You could even call to talk to the other person. Just talk.

But it still sounded… dirty to you.

Like, if you picked up the phone right now (you turn to the other side of the bed to prevent yourself from doing just that –twenty seven-) and you… called, you’d see the stern disappointed expression on your father’s face you avoid seeing at all costs somewhere above you. Or maybe, it would be a scandalized expression. You try to imagine that, but it seems strangely comical to you and it doesn’t really work. Also, why is he looking at you from above? He’s not dead, just a few hours away. This is too dramatic.

Okay, your trail of thought goes back to the sex phone… thing. So it seems like some people have tried it at some point. Doesn’t mean you have to, right? You could just ignore that piece of information you learned today and just… go on with your life.

Sounds good to you.

23:58

You pick up the phone and before you realize what you’re actually honest-to-god (shit, bringing God into this doesn’t seem very proper) about to do, you’re dialing the number.  
Just to kill the curiosity, nothing more. 

What follows is, at first, not exactly what you expected. After the person who picks up the phone asks for your name, the questioning becomes more straight-forward, and your heart is beating so fast you think you might be having ventricular tachycardia. 

“Sweety, I asked you if you prefer blondes or brunettes? Redheads?”

“Uh-uhh… I-I don’t really…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Great.”

She asks you about minutes and blocks and payments and by now you are answering totally on autopilot. What the hell are you even doing?

You shouldn’t have called. For God’s (again, shit) sake, you are an attractive girl! You don’t need to be calling a hotline! You could have any girl you wanted at any moment! 

Okay, you’re exaggerating now.

Still, this is ridiculous. You don’t even want to do that with a complete stranger. You cringe just thinking how awkward that would-

“Hi, beautiful.”

Even single (totally irrelevant) thought in your head vanishes. Completely evaporated. Puff.

All because the voice at the other side of the line has to be the hottest voice you’ve heard in all your life.

Fuck.

“Hello?” The girl sighs, no wonder thinking you’re bailing on this already since you’ve been quiet for at least twenty seconds. “I can entertain myself fairly alright, but you know, I haven’t gotten a call from a girl in a while, and I would really love if you’d at least give me your name. So I can do the same… entertaining for you.”

Crap, why does her voice turn you on so much? It’s raspy. As if she had just woken up. And low. And just generally sexual. 

She sounds like sex.

“Cupcake? I can hear you breathing.” She giggles, and it’s the most appealing sound you’ve even heard come out of your phone. “Hey, relax. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“N-no, no, it’s fine. I just…” You struggle to finds the words, your mouth dry and your breathing not quite regular yet. “I haven’t done this before. And I don’t want to- like, I don’t want you to think that I enjoy doing this sort of thing regularly. I don’t. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! The calling… and the job, I mean, it’s a nice job… well, not a nice job, that depends on you, if you like it, I don’t-“

“Wow.” 

Your mouth hangs open. Did you just really say all that? 

“You do sure talk a lot.” She doesn’t seem to be annoyed by it though; it just looks like she’s trying to hold back a good laugh. “You’re cute.”

“T-thank you?”

“Can I get your name? Or do I have to… earn it?” You didn’t think it was possible, but her voice tone has dropped even more. She’s basically whispering by the end of the sentence, and you’re basically feeling very, very aroused.

“Laura. I’m Laura.”

You breathe, trying to relax, as the girl said. 

Okay, you’re fine. Not _completely_ fine, but you’re sure you’re not going to jump into another painfully embarrassing rant. 

You’re on the phone. With a phone sex operator. No big deal.

You might as well enjoy it. You should try. To… enjoy it. Yeah.

You hear your voice distinctly clearer as you try your best attempt at being flirty. “Do I get to know your name. Or do _I_ have to earn it?

The girl laughs, low and husky. “I would like that very much, actually.” 

You gulp. 

“I would like a lot of things.” It sounds like she’s licking her lips. It’s also entirely possible that you’re imagining it. “You make me want to do a lot of things…”

A beat.

“To you.”

Fuck.

“I’m sorry. Too much?” She sounds genuinely concerned about you. You want to tell her that nothing, absolutely nothing is too much right now. 

You settle for a little less. “Not really. What exactly do you have in mind?”

Really, Laura? Who are you?

“You have a really sweet voice. And to be honest, it’s driving me crazy. You know why?”

You almost choke on your own saliva. “N-no.”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about how your voice must sound when you’re panting and moaning. Gasping for air.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Okay. You can do this.

“Well, you’ll never know if you don’t start doing something.”

“Oh, demanding. I like it.”

You really hope she takes the lead from here, because you’re starting to lose courage, but you’re too excited to stop now. At least, it doesn’t seem like the other girl is having a bad time. And she is actively pushing for you two to get more… intimate. So, how would that be a bad thing?

“What are you wearing?”

All right. That’s a typical one, even you know it.

What are you wearing? You look down at your pink pajama pants that fall short on your ankles. They must have at least six years. Not really sexy. The white T-shirt could still have some kind of potential, until you notice the toothpaste stains. 

“My underwear.” 

She makes a pained noise. 

“Are you alright?” You’re worried now. 

“I’m more than alright, believe me. I’d be even better if I was kissing you. Running my tongue down your bottom lip.”

“Oh, yeah?” She’s only talking about kissing and you’re already too turned on for your own good. “What do you taste like?”

“Skittles.”

You can’t help it. The laugh shots through your chest and you’re incapable of stopping it.

“I… may have a problem.”

“You may have a problem. With… eating too many skittles?”

“Yeah.”

Good Lord, you hadn’t laughed like this in a while. This girl is the cutest creature, and you’re honestly baffled that she can go from sexy-dropping-pants-phone-sex-operator to… this, in seconds. You’re completely fascinated.

“Sorry, I just, didn’t want to lie to you.”

You’re still chuckling. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“I’d also not be lying if I said I want to kiss your neck until there are red marks. To taste your skin. Kissing you lower, and lower…”

And just like that you start feeling wetness on your underwear. It’s not fair that she can do this so effortlessly.

She begins describing in delicious detail all the wonderful things she’s doing to your chest, and you hand starts moving beyond your control.

The sensations are glorious; her soft, yet rough voice running through your ear, your head, your body…

Her precise instructions, you follow dutifully.

You start gaining your confidence slowly. You tell her what to do.

She complies.

Her breaths are soon enough fusing with your own gasps. You’re fucking her. And even though your hand is doing all the work on your own body, you feel like you really are. 

You feel her body above yours.

You hear her moans as if-

Wait.

You stop suddenly, your hand going stiff and your head snapping to the direction of your bedroom wall. From where you can distinctly hear someone having… sex. 

Someone whose voice sounds unbelievably similar to the girl’s on the phone.

What the hell? That’s where Carmilla lives. The annoying, jackass of a neighbor with whom you’ve never actually had a conversation apart from passive-aggressive notes you’ve left on her door asking her to turn down the music because you could not study otherwise.

She’d reply to you with a note of her own saying “Go get a job then. And get some music taste.”

Bitch.

“Laura? You there? I mean, I’m all for you making me suffer for a little while, but I would fucking love to get you off.” She stays quiet for a couple more seconds. “What’s wrong?”

“Uhh- nothing! Nothing’s wrong! I just… got really into it, and… umm.” 

You study the sounds coming from the other side of the wall. Nothing. The sexual sounds have definitely stopped.

Shit.

“You know what I would prefer to you getting me off?” You’re now on a mission. “To get _you_ off.”

“Fuck.”

Yep, you heard that. You heard it on the phone. And you heard it on other side of the wall.

It is then that a beautifully flawless plan sets into motion in your mind. 

“I’m way more interested in making you beg, in having you all ready for me.” You can’t barely recognize your own voice. “And then fucking you until you come, screaming my name.”

The noises coming from the phone are making you wish you could go back to touching yourself, but you have a goal in mind. You have to do this. Besides, the girl is probably faking. It’s what people who work as phone sex operators do. They fake it.

With that in mind, you slowly get out of bed, put on some sneakers, and walk out the door of your apartment into the hallway, all while still giving instructions through the phone, now barely whispers in fear of any other neighbors hearing you.

You press the doorbell.

On your phone you hear her stop. She’s quiet.

Slow footsteps towards the door. 

It’s in that moment you realize your perfect plan has some small flaws. Like the fact that the moment Carmilla opens that door, she’s gonna know you call sex hotlines on a Friday night for fun. 

Small details. Little details you should have thought before-

She’s opened the door.

“Oh, it’s the noisy next-door neighbor! What a wonderful surprise.”

Rude.

She has the phone in her left hand, the right holding the door opened just enough for you to see she’s just wearing a black tank top and… panties.

She’s not wearing pants.

Help.

“What do you want?”

What do you want. That’s a good question.

When you were coming here, you thought what you wanted was to get your revenge for months of insufferable loud music and annoying childish behavior. 

Right now? 

Right now you’d slam her against the door and fuck her senseless. You’d have your revenge. Just… a different type of revenge.

She rolls her eyes, and starts closing the door, so you do the only thing that crosses your mind. You hold your phone to your ear again.

“And now… I want you to taste your fingers. I want you to lick them and think of me…”

She stops dead in her tracks.

She turns and looks at you with a questioning expression.

You shrug.

“Didn’t know you were into being dominated in bed.”

She stares at you. Then she cracks a smile. “Yeah, well, a girl has to earn her money somehow.” She gets closer to you. “Didn’t know you where into dominating people.”

She scrunches up her nose. “Well, actually, I should have figured. You are really into giving orders.”

“Well, I’d say you’re good at receiving them, but… meh… I’ve seen better.”

“Oh, yeah? Maybe if your orders where better, I would be able to do a better job.”

You don’t know when it has happened, but you’re now standing directly into each other’s spaces, practically breathing the same air. Fucking air filled with sexual tension.

Second little small flaw of your flawless plan: you’re standing in front of the girl you were having phone sex five minutes ago, neither of you is sexually satisfied (you’d say you’re actually very sexually frustrated), there’s little clothing between your right now, and you really should have foreseen this would happen.

You really should have.

She’s thinking the exact same thing; you can see it in her dilated pupils and the way she keeps staring at your lips.

She kisses you.

It’s not long before you’re pushing her into her own apartment, closing the door behind you with your foot; your hands already too occupied.

She tastes like skittles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was going to be a one-shot, but due to popular demand (me, I was the popular demand) now there's... more.

You’re warm. Not so much comfy warm. More like uncomfortable warm. Basically, there’s a lot of light directed at your face right now (you’re still not sure where it’s coming from, ‘cause that would require you opening your eyes) and it’s really getting in the way of your peaceful sleeping. 

To avoid the brightness, you turn to your other side. 

There. 

Nice.

Something (someone?) starts touching your back. Not… so nice.

That gets you to wake up. Nothing like some stranger feeling you up early in the morning to invigorate you, right? Right.

As soon as you open up your eyes, you realize it’s not quite a stranger. More like your next-door neighbor in bed with you. 

You peek under the sheets. Naked. The light is coming from the window.

Thankfully you notice she’s still dead to the world, so you take a moment to try to remember the events of last night, so that you can decide your next move. 

And boy, do you remember. It was an _eventful_ night. 

You drop to reality immediately, though, and you start to freak out. This shouldn’t have happened. 

You may be up for casual sex sometimes, but you are not gonna go down that route with Carmilla. After being pissed by her behavior for so long, you have a little more self-respect than that. You are not giving her the satisfaction of even admitting this is a thing that actually took place. 

You cautiously free your body from her grasp (huh, she’s a clinger, how ironic), and you practically jump from the bed.

Next, clothes.

Shit, your clothes. They’re like, everywhere.

It looks like the two of you did a freaking competition last night. “Let’s see who can throw their clothes further away! More points if they end up under the couch! Even more points if they’re completely fucking impossible to find the next day!”

After finding your pants in the living room and grabbing your bra from above Carmilla’s fridge (the tour to her bedroom may have included every single room in the flat), you walk slowly towards the door, and throw one last look at the place. It’s far from organized and clean. You obviously didn’t notice last night, but Carmilla is not the most sanitary person around. See? Another reason you should not get involved with her.

And with that you step out of the apartment, closing the door as gently as you can.

 

You take what could possibly be the longest shower of your life, but it does wonders to clear your head, so whatever. You even throw a little singing in there. Belting a dramatic tune while the water is hitting your face never fails to cheer you up.

By the time you’re dressed in your snuggly sweats, you feel infinitely better. A call to your dad is due, so you spend the next two hours making aimless conversation with him about everything and anything. You love your dad.

Oh god, if he knew about last night, he’d be so disturbed.

Poor man.

Her daughter sleeping with a sex line operator. Way to give him a heart attack.

 

After the call and checking your social media for a while, you go to your kitchen to grab something to eat, but as you pass in front of your door, you stop.

There’s a note. On the floor.

It must have been pushed under the door.

You pick it up recognizing the handwriting immediately.

_“Leaving a girl to wake up alone is not very nice, cupcake.”_

Yeah right, you think, like she gives a damn. She’d have kicked you out anyway. You’re not an idiot; you’re very much aware of all the girls Carmilla has had at her place, you’ve seen the parade. 

You’ve never seen the same girl twice.

You’re about to throw the piece of paper into the garbage, when you notice there’s something on the other side of it. _“Also, your singing is awful, please don’t ever try to make a career out of it.”_

The nerve.

 

You were totally going to ignore the note, but your inner child always surfaces when it comes to the other girl, so you grab a pen.

She thinks she’s so sassy, huh? She thinks she’s _so very_ funny? Well, you’re so gonna beat her at it, if it’s the last thing you do (your father always said you had too much of a competitive attitude for your tiny body, you have no idea what he was talking about). 

Anyway, Carmilla’s gonna lose this game.

You step out of your apartment, looking at both sides of the hallway, having no intention of getting caught in the act.

You slip the note under her door. _“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Must have confused me with some other girl. I get it, sometimes it’s hard to keep track of them.”_

And on the back of the paper, you couldn’t resist adding: _“Also, your personality is awful, please don’t ever try to make anything out of it.”_

Once inside your place, you throw a punch in the air in victory. Then you realize how lame you must look right now and you awkwardly bring your arm down and go to your desk, fully intent on studying for the rest of the day.

 

The next morning, when you wake up and go to grab some breakfast, the note on the floor doesn’t surprise you at all.

_“Oops, my bad. Wrong blonde.”_

Yeah, you may have deserved that.

You read the back of the note. _“It’s on, cupcake.”_

Oh, no.

 

A week later, you still haven’t seen Carmilla or heard from her. Not surprising though, considering you two managed to live on the same floor for months without actually exchanging any words face to face. You’re starting to doubt the other girl ever steps foot outside her apartment. 

And it’s not like you’re avoiding her, or something stupid like that. Not like you always check the hallway before you go outside your apartment. 

No, you’re pretty much over the whole thing. Who cares that you slept with her? Not you, that’s for sure.

You’re on your bed going over some of your notes from class, barely staying awake and (maybe) drooling a little over one page, when a noise from the other side of the wall startles you.

No.

This is not happening.

Except it is. Carmilla is most definitely talking to a client right now.

And by talking, you totally mean making pornographic sounds and moaning and… 

Jesus.

You think for a second about the possibility that a number of times you though Carmilla was with a girl on her bed because of the sounds you could hear, she was just… on the phone. You were hearing Carmilla having phone sex.

You _are_ hearing Carmilla having phone sex.

And it’s turning you on. So much, that you start getting closer to the wall, you ear now practically glued to it.

She’s begging. She’s begging on the phone for the other person to fuck her. To _punish_ her.

The moment you hear that, your legs give up temporarily to the force of gravity (you’re in a weird position, half crouched down on your bed), causing you to fall and hit your head against the wall. 

Fuck, that hurt. Both your head, and your pride.

You stay still for a minute, rubbing the affected zone with your hand. The sounds on the other apartment keep on, as enthusiastic as before.

You sigh relieved. 

But that doesn’t last long, because Carmilla makes a really inappropriate moan, loud and _indecent._ And among the dirty thoughts in your brain, you come to a conclusion (an impressive feat in your opinion, considering the circumstances). 

Carmilla’s doing this on purpose. She knows you can hear her.

She’s in her room, making sure you hear her swear and scream obscenities at someone else.

The fact that you’re aware of that does nothing to stop your wandering hand, already in your underwear. You want to start slow, but the sounds are getting louder and more frantic, and it’s all so similar to the night you had sex with her, that your body is responding to it as if she were making those sounds because of you. 

You’ve tried not to think about that night, but to deny that the sex was mind-blowing would be absurd. 

You let go. The memories of her skin against yours and her breath all over your body. You don’t stop them anymore. 

You come with a pained gasp, a hand on your mouth trying to block unsuccessfully your moans, and two of your fingers inside you.

The only thing you hear is your breathing, irregular and heavy. No other sounds.

She’s not on the phone anymore.

You get down from your high already regretting everything. What the hell were you thinking? That was not even remotely near the list of “correct things Laura Hollis should do in this particular situation”.

You just masturbated to her moans.

God damnit, Laura. Get yourself together.

You go to the kitchen for a glass of water. You drink it while contemplating your last life choices. You consider dumping the next glass of water over your head, that’s how mad you are at yourself right now. 

And on the way back to your room, there it is. Another note on your floor.

_“You know, next time you should just come over.”_

Fuck, she heard you. 

She knows.

She knows you where touching yourself while she was fucking with someone over the phone.

Carmilla 1 – Laura 0

You snatch a piece of paper from your desk, write a retort, and stick it on her front door, for everyone on the building to see.

_“Next time you shouldn’t proclaim to the entire floor how much you enjoy being spanked.”_


	3. Chapter 3

_Rule number three, wear your heart on your cheek  
but never on your sleeve, unless you wanna taste defeat. _

/

Five days. Five days of waiting for a note. For anything that implies that Carmilla is still into this twisted game. Nothing.

Has she given up? So easily? After what happened the other day?

You doubt that. She’s probably letting you think you’re safe, only to pull some kind of twisted trap the moment you divert your attention. With a lot of teasing and tormenting. 

Yeah. 

But… where is it? Five days are a lot of days to make a move. What the hell is she waiting for?

You are so absorbed in your hypothetical plans and counter-attacks, that the noise of your phone ringing makes you jump.

Is it..?

No, of course it’s not. Laura, get your shit together.

It’s LaF. “Hey!”

“Hey, Laura! We’re going out tomorrow night. So dress up for once in your life and let’s get druuunk!” You make a grumbling sound. 

You hate going out, and drinking is not something that does any good to your dignity, which you’ve damaged enough already. “Come on, everyone is coming, it’s gonna be awesome.”

It takes a lot of begging and some blackmail to get you to accept. 

And when you do, you realize this is your chance. You’re gonna totally completely forget about Carmilla by picking a really hot girl on a bar, and having amazing sex with her. Even better, you can bring her to your apartment and rub it all over your neighbor’s (very pretty) face. That will show her how unaffected you are by her. 

You’re gonna look so hot, she’ll-

There’s a knock on your door. 

Well, that was a mood-killer. You look at the clock on your nightstand. 21:16.

Who is the _asshat_ bothering you at this hour?

The moment you open the door, your mind goes completely blank. Carmilla is standing in front of you only wearing a towel.

You panic and shut the door on her face.

Leaning against it, you let out a low grumble, inhale deeply, and open it again.

She’s looking down (barely) at you with a raised eyebrow. One corner of her lips is slightly upwards, and you glare at her with all your energy.

You clear your throat trying to sound collected. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well, ain’t it nice to see you too.” Fuck her sexy voice and everything it stands for.

You make a show of slowly closing the door squinting your eyes threateningly at her. Her smirk grows.

“My shower broke.”

Your hand on the door stops. 

You could just close it. She’s doing this on purpose. Ugh, you regret so much wondering why she wasn’t being a pain in the ass moments ago.

“And I care about your shower because…”

She puts a hand on the door and starts opening again. You let her.

“Because I need to use yours.” She’s leaning against the doorframe know, completely in your space. 

Shit, she really is wearing only the towel. That’s playing dirty, like… really dirty.

“You’re nuts if you think I’m gonna let you.” 

“Okay.” She takes a step back. You let out a relieved breath. “I mean, I get it. Must be difficult for you to let me use it, rather tempting…” She looks at your lips the whole time. “I just didn’t thought you’d be so… weak.”

“Fuck you.” 

She laughs. “You already did, remember?”

You keep glaring at her, though you’re aware it’s not doing the desired effect. “No, not really. Which says a lot about your… aptitudes in bed, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, right.” 

She turns serious, biting her bottom lip. You notice her hand is drawing small circles on her thigh. Eyes up, Hollis. “In that case, maybe we can do a rematch. Let’s see who… finishes first this time.”

No, you’re not falling for that. She may be gloriously hot, and sexy, and she makes those sounds that crush all your determination to not be attracted to her, and… where were you going with this?

Focus.

Carmilla thinks appearing on your doorstep half-naked, and asking to use your shower will end up with the both of you sleeping together. Which would mean you lost whatever weird competition you two have made up that has you acting like this.

No way she’ll get away with it.

“I’m not going to do a rematch of any kind with you. But if you wanna use my shower, go on.”

You just have to hold on. You take a risk now, but you hold on. You _do not_ have sex with her.  
Sometimes in battle a bold move is needed. You put yourself in the line of fire, but you have to make sure you don’t get shot by the enemy. Or in this case, make sure you don’t… sleep with the enemy. 

Completely unaware to your internal monologue about war tactics, Carmilla enters your apartment.

You’re gaze follows her back. She has a really nice back.

She makes a show of dropping the towel before entering the bathroom, right in front of you. You confirm she’s not wearing anything underneath.

Great.

What did you ever do to deserve this? 

 

While Carmilla is in your shower, you order yourself to do some studying, but it ends up being almost impossible because all you can think is about entering the bathroom and…  
Okay, you have to stop. Even if at this point it’s just a matter of pride.

This is a game to her. You’re just another conquest that she’s taken special interest in because you’re so insistent in not admitting that you really want to fuck her again. 

You don’t mean anything to her. And you’ve had your heart broken enough times to know certainly when not to get feelings for someone who is going to screw you over.

Not that you’re getting any kind of feelings.

You’re attracted to her, but that’s it.

Still, you don’t think the whole sex-whitout-feelings thing is really your forte. If you’re honest with yourself, you’d probably develop feelings for the other person on some level. 

And _that_ here is unacceptable.

“Hey.” 

She’s standing in front of you, water dripping from her hair and _still_ only wearing the damn towel.

“I…” She’s scratching the back of her neck uncomfortably. “I wanted to say thank you, for letting me use the shower.” You keep staring at her puzzled. “I didn’t lie to you, okay? Just wanted to clarify that, mine doesn’t work.”

Your words are stuck at the back of your mouth and you find yourself incapable of responding. She seems nervous by your silence.

“I have lunch with my mom. And she- If I’d gone to meet her looking like a hobo…” She laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile. She really does look beautiful. “She’d have gone on a rant about me being a mess and how it’s time that I get my shit together, and I stop acting like a child and, you know…” She shrugs. “Mothers.”

That may be the longest sentence Carmilla has ever said to you.

You get yourself out of your stupor enough to answer something so she stops looking at you the way she is. “It’s fine. No problem.”

“You know, I could find a way to repay you for your… hospitality, in a way that I’m sure you’ll enjoy.” 

“And heeere I thought you were capable of having a normal conversation without being incredibly inappropriate.” You shake your head. “Silly me.”

She chuckles and winks at you good-naturally. “Was worth a try.”

She starts walking towards the door. You try (god, you try) not too look at the droplets of water falling from her hair to her back, sliding down smooth skin… the way the towel  
hugs her body, how you could just take it off of her and…

“See you around cupcake.” The way she looks at you before she closes the door lets you know you will definitely see her again. 

This is not over.

And you can’t find it in yourself to decide if that is a good or a bad thing.

 

You shouldn’t have let planning your outfit for the last moment. You have to be at some club in an hour and you’re still not sure what you’re wearing. All because you’ve been so distracted thinking about the thing from yesterday with Carmilla that you haven’t done anything productive since then. Was she gonna get her shower fixed soon? Or would she drop by at any moment now asking you to use it again? How did lunch with her mother go? Does she have a good relationship with her?

Why are you wondering all of this? That’s the only question you should try to find an answer to.

Also, the answer to what the fuck are you going to wear.

You look at the blue dress. Then you look at the black top that doesn’t even cover your stomach.

You know which one you’d wear in a normal situation. 

You also know which one will have Carmilla drooling (and all the girls at the dance club).

Sighing, you grab the second one while chastising yourself. 

 

Perry hugs you so hard she almost breaks one of your ribs. LaF gives you an awkward affectionate pat in the shoulder.

Danny and Kirsch are so into whatever lame topic they’re discussing (more like fighting about) at the moment, that until you grab their ears and force their heads to look down (they’re freaking giraffes) they don’t notice you. They hug you as if you were their long lost child that they haven’t seen in years. It’s kinda true though.

You feel bad for not spending more time with them.

That is until you’re a few rounds of shots into the night.

“Soooo, Laura, are you seeing anyone?? Cooome on, tell me you have some sexy lady you haven’t told us about hiding somewhere.”

Danny smacks Kirsch’s nape.

LaF literally facepalms. “As poorly and… offensive as Kirsch worded that… he’s right, you never tell us anything. Is there something we should know?”

You’re sure your face is getting exponentially more colored. Which you know is stupid, because it’s not like you really have a “lady” or something that they could get weirdly excited about.

“Guys, you know I don’t have time for that. Also, I haven’t really met anyone I want to have a relationship with so…”

Krisch puts an arm around your shoulders. “My little Padawan. No one said anything about relationships.” He starts wiggling his eyebrows with the subtlety of a flying brick.

“Oh my god, Kirsch, stop being such an asshole.” 

“Yeah, shut up Wilson.”

“Kirsch, dude.”

After a few seconds, they all turn their heads in your direction. A few eyebrows raised. A few badly concealed expressions of curiosity. 

LaF breaks the silence that has settled in the table. “…so?”

You glare at them. “You are all the worst.”

“Come one, Laura. It’s been like… months! We’re just worried about you, that’s all. You’re hot, you should have…fun.” LaF grins as if that is gonna magically get the scowl out of your face.

You drown the rest of your drink (the fourth?) and give them a smug expression. “Well, maybe it hasn’t been morths. Maaaybe, it’s been days.”

The commotion at the table is instant, and your friends congratulate you with entirely too much excitement (seriously, what is wrong with them?) for your comfort. You tell them you don’t want to give any details though, and that it was just a one-time thing.

They leave to the dancefloor shortly after that, when they accept that you will not answer any more of their invasive questions about your sex life.

LaF stays because they say they don't feel ready to dance until they’ve had at least six drinks.

“So was it really just a one-night stand?”

You choke on your drink.

“I’m just saying. Laura, you don’t tell us about those. Also, you don’t usually… have those.”

“So what? I can’t have a one-night stand now? I’m not so innocent and pure, come one, LaF.” You know what they are trying to say though, and you’re growing more and more apprehensive.

“You wouldn’t have told us if it were just that. I know you.” They smile at you, genuinely. “So you are either seeing this girl or…”

“I’m not seeing her. Well, not… in that way. But it’s true, I’m seeing her in some way.” You see there’s no use in hiding it anymore. “ She’s my neighbor.”

You proceed to spill everything to LaF and it’s then that you realize you really needed to get this out of your chest. 

You’ve never been good at keeping things inside.

“Okay. So she wants to… do it again?” LaF looks confused. You can’t blame them.

“I have absolutely no idea what the hell she wants.” You start giggling. Maybe you should tone it down with the drinks. “But yeah, I guess she wants to tap this.” You gesture at your body. “I mean, she does have good taste.”

LaF chortles, making you laugh even more.

“You are so freaking ridiculous.”

Once both of you manage to control your giggles, LaF sighes, and you know they’re about to drop some truths on you, as always. “You’re into her, L. I’m sorry, I know it’s not what you wanna hear, but you’re really into this girl, and the more you try to make yourself unattainable to her, the more you enjoy it. And I’m sure she does too.” They grab your hand and squeeze it. You are both drunk by now. “Why do you always go for the weird ones, seriously?”

You start laughing again.

“Believe me, LaF. I wish I knew”

 

The taxi leaves you at the door of your building, but even just walking the stairs to the second floor becomes a challenge. Especially with the heels. You really hate those things.  
You almost fall down four times. You actually fall at one moment, but you don’t register any pain, so you’re good (you definitely register it the next day).

Once in your floor, you stop.

The booze in your system is telling you to do certain things that you’re not sure if sober Laura would agree to. You don’t want to piss off sober Laura.

But you feel invincible right now.

Undefeated. 

Except for the stairs. The stairs did defeat you. Still, you fought hard.

Your brain is so slow to register what your body is doing that before you realize it you’re standing on Carmilla’s door and knocking on it.

Shit, it’s 3 am. She’s probably not even awake and you just woke her up and she’s gonna be so pissed.

The door opens. Carmilla is _again_ only wearing a tank top and panties.

“Do you not have any clothes or do you do that” You point an unsteady hand towards her body. “just so you can torture me?”

The slurring was important and now Carmilla is looking at you mildly concerned.

“Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“Sure.”

She’s giving you a skeptical look, and looking all disapprovingly, but you notice the glances she keeps throwing towards you exposed skin.

Oh yeah, she is having a hard time looking at you in the eye.

You get closer to her. Your hand starts touching her shirt, on her midriff.

“You know, you were right.”

Again, the eyebrow. You stare at it. It’s a flawless eyebrow. A beautiful eyebrow. Going all upy and downy. 

“About what?”

“I really, really liked the sex.” 

And with that you tilt your head slightly upwards and your lips are on her lips, pressing gently.

Her hand finds you neck and she draws you close, her other hand on the skin of your hips and her tongue brushing against yours. She still tastes like Skittles and you almost forget about your whole plan. Almost.

She pushes you against the wall inside her apartment, pressing a knee in between your legs. You grab her hips and roughly turn her around, pushing her against the wall.

The kiss comes to a halt. You keep your face inches away from hers, your mouths barely brushing, and whisper. “Careful.” Your erratic breaths mix in the space between you. “You’re losing.”

You separate your body from hers, and turn in the direction of your door. 

You’re about to enter your apartment.

“I don’t lose.”

You smile, not turning even though you know she’s still there.

You’ll see about that.


	4. Chapter 4

“So like… she sleeps with you, she loses? And if you can’t get her to… sleep with you, you lose?” You hear a snort on the other side of the line. “Well, ain’t that arrogant on your side. You know, sis, I always thought you had quite an empty head, but this is crossing the line. Like, you just saw the line and said… hmm no. And stepped the fuck over it.”

“What the hell are you talking about? It’s just a little fun, it’s not hurting anyone. Besides, she’s the competitive one. I was just here, you know, minding my business and she just barged in, all righteous and stubborn… and pretty.” You shudder, trying to get certain thoughts out of your mind. “She’s like a wrecking ball. Same level of subtlety.”

“So… exactly what you’re into?”

“Oh, fuck off, Will.”

“Come on, Carmilla, accept that you have a t-“ He’s laughing so hard, he must drop his phone, because you hear a sudden thud. 

“Hey, idiot. You still there?” 

“Yeah. I tripped on all the junk my roommate leaves on the floor. Man, why is he like this?”

He sounds so disturbed, that you can’t help make a little fun of him.

“Riiight, how’s that whole living with the peasants thing going on?” Your brother grunts. “And by that I mean, how’s college?”

“It’s alright.” You can practically see the shrug. He doesn’t sound unhappy though, so he’s probably just pulling the sad act so he doesn’t have to admit that it doesn’t suck as much as he thought it would.

“Apart from the roommate, I guess.”

“Well, he’s not so bad. He’s a pretty decent guy.”

“Oh wow, who are you?” You’re pretty sure you’ve never heard such nice words come out of Will’s mouth. “Besides, wasn’t he like, repeating a year? He’s definitely not a brilliant student.”

“Yeah, no. He’s… kinda dense. And he seriously needs to learn how to treat women. But he’s a good roommate, when he keeps his part of the floor visible. Also, he may have convinced me to join some stupid fraternity…”

“Oh my god. “

“Hey, you said I had to stop being such an asshole to people, so I did. About time you take your own advice.”

Okay, low blow, William Luce, low blow. 

You’re strangely proud of him. Not that you’re planning on telling him that, though.

You don’t have big-sister-feelings very often, but when you do, you make sure to ignore them completely.

“Wait, did little William make _a friend_?” Mocking him is more you’re style.

“You know what, I’m hanging up. You don’t get to hear my incredibly useful and resourceful advice on how to woo your neighbor. You do that yourself, I’m sure it will get you… nowhere.”

You scoff, expecting him to continue ranting, contradicting the whole point of threatening to hang up the phone. He doesn’t though. 

“… Will. Come one.” You don’t hear an answer. “Will, stop being an asshole.”

Nothing.

“… please?”

“Actually I have no advice whatsoever, but that was entertaining.”

“Ugh, I hate you so much.”

 

So that was unhelpful, you think while unceremoniously flopping down on your bed. You lie there looking at your ceiling, wondering how the hell you got to this point, and the answer only makes you want to hit yourself with the pillow. This is stupid. _You’re being stupid._

But then again, the stunt Laura pulled last night was not fair. 

You may have been acting like a jerk with her, but she started it. She blew you off after you slept together, come on. And yeah, you know it’s totally hypocritical that you feel this way after you’ve been doing the same thing to many girls for years.

But you never thought it would feel like that, to wake up alone in bed, the other person long gone.

And then she had the audacity to act like the sex had been so mediocre she didn’t even remember it. Now, _that_ offended you.

There’s too much silence on your apartment. You can practically hear your thoughts, and it’s not exactly something pleasant given that they’re idiotic. So you get up and go to the living room. Music, you need loud, distracting music that washes away all kinds of thoughts. Once that is settled, you faceplant on the couch.

Nap time.

Or not. You spend ten minutes indulging in precious laziness, when a loud knock on the door startles you. 

Confused, you drag your feet all the way over there, open it and shoot the best glare you can muster to… no one.

There’s no one. 

You’re making a murderous face at the air. You close the door, and when you step back, you notice the piece of paper on the floor.

Great, so you’re back to that.

_“You know, you lack a few qualities already, I don’t think going deaf would do you any favors.”_

And people said you were rude. Amazing.

You keep reading, because at this point you’ve become a masochist for her burns.

“Also, your satanic music really turns me off, and I’m trying to have some fun here. “

What.

What did that mean? Was she…?

You go back to the couch, but not before turning the music even louder. If you were miserable, she should be too. 

So miserable that she will be pissed at you and she’ll turn up at your door to yell at you, only instead of fighting with her, you’ll grab her waist and pull her closer to you. She’ll stop talking. You’ll worship her mouth, her body, until she’ll push you inside your apartment; your hand inside her jeans. She’ll gasp and you’ll bite her neck, caressing her skin-

Another loud noise at the door. You stumble to the floor, rudely awoken from your daydreaming.

_“Okay, now you’re doing it on purpose. Do I have to come and make you regret being such a brat?”_

Please. That sounds exactly like what you want right now.

But you know she won’t. She’s just playing you. 

Damn her innocent looks. That girl is anything but innocent.

You go to your bathroom, for once not bothered at all that your heater is broken and you are only able to take cold showers.

 

/

 

Carmilla has turned off the music. You don’t know if you’re satisfied or disappointed. 

You thought she’s put more of a fight. She didn’t even let you any passive-aggressive post-its under your door.

You’re not sure if this means you’ve officially won. If it does, it doesn’t really bring you any sense of accomplishment.

Weird.

You have a lot of stuff to do though. Important stuff. So you don’t have time to start thinking about hypothetical situations and trying to understand why your jerk of a neighbor is not responding to your advances. “Because those are not normal advances, Laura. This is not the way sane people flirt.” You shush your subconscious, and go back to reading your book. “You basically insulted her. Maybe you crossed the line.”

Now this was becoming ridiculous.

You were so concerned about Miss-Sarcasm-and-Apathy that it was distracting you to an alarming point.

Not concerned. Just… annoyed. That she wasn’t giving you any attention.

Oh god, you had it bad.

Your phone makes an obnoxious sound, letting you know someone reclaims your attention. LaF has sent you a message asking about your situation with Carmilla. Who knew they liked gossiping so much.

It’s when you’re deciding what to answer to LaF (you’re stuck between a thumbs up and the salsa dancer emoji, because last night you pretty much reduced Carmilla to a horny mess), that you become aware of what you could do to reclaim Carmilla’s attention. 

But you’re not gonna do _that._ It’d be like giving up. And you don’t give up.

Although, it’s shouldn’t have to mean you’d craved or anything. It could be another way of torturing her. Making it clear that you’re doing it to drive her crazy, not because... you’re going crazy thinking about her.

You spend a good ten minutes trying to convince yourself.

How ironic is it that you’re back to calling a phone sex line on a Friday night _again_? Well, more like deciding if calling is really the smart thing to do.

_It’s not._

You call anyway. It’s not long before she’s on the phone, but she’s not saying anything and you’re getting more and more agitated. 

You’re trying to choose the right words to start-

“Laura, what the hell are you doing?”

She sounds like she’s trying to sound pissed. 

“Is this how you greet someone you’re supposed to be getting off?”

You hear her swallow at the other side of the line, but she remains silent. You don’t know if that’s good or bad.

“Look, I just have this… frustration that I though you could help me with. But if you’re not really up to it, then I guess I find another way.”

Carmilla clears her throat. She’s rustling; you can picture her sitting on her bed. Or maybe lying down.

“What… kind of frustration?”

“Oh, you know what kind.”

You start pacing to try to calm down your nerves. You feel like you’re about to explode.

You don’t realize where you’re going until you get to your room. Of couse.

“And may I ask why it is that you have this… problem?”

Okay. She’s flirting. This is familiar territory with her.

“Well. I may have this… thing with my next-door neighbor” You can practically feel her breathing, getting more irregular by seconds. “that is not exactly satisfying my necessities.”

She snorts, but even that she manages to make it sexual. Or at least, endearing.

“Well, maybe you should go to your neighbor and let them help you out. You know, let them fuck you against a wall, like I’m sure they would like to.”

Shit. Now you’re starting to remember why doing this is not the best idea. There’s no way you’re going to survive it knowing Carmilla is at the other side of wall. 

This is why you should stick to notes. Notes don’t have Carmilla’s voice. They have her handwriting, which is not exactly much of a turn on, seeing as she has the writing of a ten year old.

“I’m not going to do that. _I_ am going to fuck _you_ like this, on the phone.” This time, her silence means something, and you smirk. “So tell me, what would you like to be doing to me right now? Better yet, what would you like me… to do to you?”

She exhales a shaky breath, and you’re starting to suspect she’s already touching herself.

“I want you to tie me up.”

You arch your back. Your hand is grabbing your sheets violently.

“You want me to tie you up.”

“Yeah.”

Now it’s you who can’t seem to form any words. She doesn’t expect you to.

“I want you to take off my clothes, push me into the bed, and tie my wrists. And I want you to be rough.”

You bite your lip in an attempt to not give away any sound.

“Can you do that?”

She definitely has the smug look on her face. That one half-smile that pisses you off so much.

It only makes you want her more right now.

Time to step up your game.

“I can do that.” You lick your lips. “And when you’re lying naked incapable of moving, I’ll kiss your neck, your shoulders, your breasts. Everything but your lips.”

She grunts. “I want you to go down on me.”

“I will. I’ll make you come so many times you’ll forget your own fucking name.”

 

A few minutes later, when you reach the best orgasm you’ve had since that night weeks ago at Carmilla’s, you almost burst into laugher thinking about how bad both of you are losing at this.

Whatever. It was stupid to think you wouldn’t.

The question is: what the hell are you going to do now?

You clearly can’t pretend _that_ didn’t happen. 

You could always do this… call her once a week. That would get this silly attraction to her out of your system. But then… how long until one day you’d lose it and you’d end up at her place?

Maybe you should talk to her. 

That sounds both the most intelligent and the most idiotic thing that has crossed your mind today.

Like what? Confess you want to touch her again, and again and again? Confess she may be driving you crazy?

You grab the handle of your front door. This is insane. She’s gonna laugh at you. Make fun of you for getting feelings.

She probably doesn’t even know what those are.

Carmilla doesn’t have feelings for anyone. And you’re a fool if you think _this_ means anything to her.

You’re turning away from the door, when you hear a commotion outside, on the hallway. Startled, you open the door and step outside.

And there’s a girl. Hugging Carmilla.

It’s an intimate scene, and you feel so out of place that your body is begging you to go back inside. 

But you can’t. You’re stuck there watching how Carmilla embraces this blond girl with all the love you didn’t know she had in her, and brings her inside her apartment, closing the door behind them.

And in that moment you’re reminded of why you should never fall for people who see everything as a game.


	5. Chapter 5

Laura called you.

Well, technically, not you. More like… the company for which you work. But she asked for you. And she acted like it was business.

Like this “calling Carmilla to have phone sex with her” was a regular thing. Like it was something you two did occasionally.

“Yeah, sure.” You muttered under your breath. “See this blank space on my agenda? That’s for Laura! She calls me every Friday to get her off. And then she acts like it didn’t happen! Amazing, right?”

You’ve started talking to the lamp, and pointing to an imaginary notebook, and you seriously need to chill.

God, but wasn’t the last hour the highlight of your week.

You know what? You’ll take it. It’s not like you’d be any good in any kind of relationship that involves more than sex. Not even decent.

So.

You’ll take it.

The sound of the doorbell almost gives you a heart-attack, though, cause it’s late, and it’s a Friday night, and _seriously_ , the only person that could be on your doorstep right now would be Laura and if she-

The face that awaits at the other side when you open the door is not Laura. 

But a thousand more emotions that you though possible fill your chest, and you feel like the world has stop spinning and you’re going insane, and maybe someone is playing a very, very weird joke on you.

“Hi.” The girl has barely whispered the word, her voice breaking, that tears start pooling in her blue eyes. Tears start falling down porcelain skin, and you’re rooted to your place, unable to move, with your hand still gripping firmly the door. “I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come, I just…”

There are arms surrounding you. 

And it takes you a while to respond to the embrace. 

It takes you a while.

/

You've been pacing the room for at least half an hour, mumbling words like a crazy old woman and taking breaks only to rub your temples and occasionally knock your head against the wall. This is not good. The hundreds of hypothesis that are running though your mind right now are not okay. Not a single one of them. But people have always told you that you were too fast to jump to conclusions. So maybe you're wrong. Maybe this is all something that you've made up in your head. 

Carmilla doesn't do relationships. So you're probably wrong.

Except, maybe for once in your life, you're not. And the simple possibility of that being an actual feasible scenario is too much for you.

... not the being right part. 

You're right sometimes. It wouldn't be so surprising.

The part where you could be _the other woman_. That's the fucked up part.

Too much. Too much for sure.

You need advice. Or someone to vent to. Because right now you don't understand anything and you kinda feel like a fool.

LaF picks up on the fourth ring. “Sup.”

“I have a problem.”

“I figured, you’re calling me.”

“Hey! What does that mean?”

LaF seems to be talking to someone, so they don’t answer you for a few seconds. “Nothing.”

More noises on the background, and now you’re curious.

“Is this a bad moment?”

“Oh, no! I’m doing some… stuff on the lab and-“

An overexcited voice cuts them off. “Hey, Laura! I’m doing science with LaF!”

“Kirsch?”

Now it sounds like they’re fighting for the phone, and after a few half-mumbled curses, LaF seems to regain control of the device.

“He’s just helping me with some things.”

“Are you using him as a guinea pig?”

“… no.”

You sigh. But then you remember why you’re calling, and honestly, you have bigger problems than whatever these two are up to.

“I think Carmilla has a girlfriend. Or… something. I just saw her, with a girl.”

As you’re saying the words, you become aware of how dumb you sound, but you don’t care that you aren’t able to explain what you saw without sounding like a lunatic. You are sure of what it meant, and that’s all that matters.

“… You think?”

Yeah. You sound totally bananas.

“Well, they were just hugging,” You hear LaF take a deep breath and you know they’re gonna say something, so you keep talking at an alarming speed. “But, before you call me an idiot and say what I already know, like the fact that maybe I misunderstood the whole thing, or maybe I thought I was seeing something that wasn’t actually the whole truth and I’m just blowing it up in my head, and I should talk to Carmilla because by speculating about I’m only going to make it worse, and you probably don’t even believe me but… it wasn’t a friendly hug.”

“You done?”

“I think so.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Huffing, you consider hanging up the phone. Why did you think it would be a good idea? Oh, yeah, because you wanted to vent. You didn’t realize that by calling to ask for advice, the other person actually had the right to call you out on your bullshit.

Not fair.

“And I would also say every single thing you just included in your little rant, but I honestly don’t even remember half of it ‘cause you talk _so freaking fast_ ” You make a sound of disagreement, “but I also know that’s not what you want to hear.”

“So, go to sleep. Seriously, it’s late, go to sleep. And tomorrow you talk to Carmilla and you sort it out.”

You hear Kirsch whisper to LaF “Who’s Carmilla?”

“But-“

“Laura. Sleep.”

They’re right. Maybe tomorrow everything will make sense. Also, there’s nothing you can do now.

“Okay. I’ll go to bed. If… you promise you won’t do anything potentially destructive for humankind on the lab.”

“Promise. Goodnight, L.”

You smile, and you’re about to hang up when Kirsch speaks again, barely audible. “No, seriously, who’s Carmilla? Cause I swear I’ve heard that name befo-”

The line goes dead. You collapse on your bed.

With your phone on your hand, you fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow.

 

 

Nothing makes sense. It’s Saturday and absolutely nothing makes sense.

But you sure know one thing. You need to talk to Carmilla, and tell her that even though you think she’s an asshole, and she really, really gets on your nerves… maybe you have a crush on her. You need to tell her.

Even if she rejects you the second the words are out of your mouth (you’re sure she will) and it makes absolutely no difference. 

You don’t care.

You’re gonna do it.

Still in your pajama pants, you put on a random shirt and step out the hallway with the determination of someone who has seen the light and is _not_ about to let it fade away.

But once you’re standing in front of her door, and you remember that the other girl is probably still inside, you comprehend that maybe this is not the way to do it. Talking to Carmilla in front of her potential girlfriend? Not really tempting.

More like: hell no.

You go back to your apartment. Paper. Pen.

_“Can we talk?”_

That seems reasonable. And not as aggressive.

Perfect. You just have to push the note under Carmilla’s door, she’ll read it and she’ll come to you. Then, you can ask her who the blonde girl is.

You fold the paper and step outside again. If any of your other neighbors are watching you, they’re probably convinced you’re completely cuckoo, especially if they’ve witnessed any of your passive-aggressive battles via post-its with Carmilla.

And now you’re basically stalking her door. 

At this rate, they’ll call the cops on you.

You crouch to pass the note, when you hear footsteps that seem to be coming closer to the door, and you panic. 

Out of all the embarrassing situations you’ve found yourself in though all your life (a truly disturbing quantity), if Carmilla and the girl open the door and find you on the floor like this, it could be the worst of all. Or at least, on the top ten.

So you get up quickly and hurry to hide yourself behind the wall of the stairs.

The door of the apartment opens right that moment, and you press yourself against the wall so hard you think you might start merging with the white paint. Actually, you wish you could. Would be quite useful right now.

Risking being seen, you take a look at what’s happening.

Carmilla and the girl are talking.

Okay, talking’s good. They seem to be saying goodbye. The blonde girl keeps smiling at Carmilla though, and every time you catch her, a burning feeling in your stomach surfaces, making you feel awkward. 

Breathe, Laura.

The girl grabs Carmilla’s hand while she whispers something to her. You can’t hear it.

But you do see, clear as anything, how the girl gets closer to the brunette and kisses her.

You can’t watch this.

Hiding yourself again, you press your body against the wall, while biting your lip in an attempt to control your anger. Because if you don’t, you’re going to walk right up to where Carmilla is and slap her across de face.

And you shouldn’t do that. You don’t want to.

Blond hair enters your field of vision, and you get scared that the girl will notice you, and somehow figure it all out. But she just passes right in front of you without sparing a single glance your way. 

You follow her with your eyes as she descends the stairs.

She really is beautiful.

And you’re pissed off. Pissed off at her, pissed off at Carmilla, and pissed off at yourself.

You head straight for your apartment, but when you’re a few feet away from the door, Carmilla’s voice startles you.

“Laura.”

She’s still standing there, in the middle of the hallway.

You ignore her and continue walking, passing right in front of her. At this point? You don’t care. You don’t want to talk to her.

“Laura, wait!” She’s right behind you, and before you have time to react, she grabs your arm, and stops you, forcing you to turn around and look at her. “That was not… I- I know you saw-“

She knows you’ve seen them kiss.

“I saw enough.”

“No. It’s not like that.” 

“I’m pretty sure of what I saw, thank you very m-“

“Oh my god, will you listen to me?” She lets go of your arm and uses her hand to anxiously mess up her hair. “You talk, and talk, and talk, but you _never_ listen, and it drives me crazy.”

You stare at her, challenging her to prove you wrong. “Okay, go ahead. Explain whatever you feel the need to explain.”

“She’s a friend. She had a bad situation at home right now, her parents are divorcing and-”

You turn around rolling your eyes intent on getting to your door. Figures she’d pull the “she’s just a friend” card. Does she really think you’ll believe a word of that?

“Hey, hey!”

She cuts you off again, quickly situating herself in front of you. “Will you let me finish? That was really rude.”

She used you to cheat on some girl and she has the nerve to say _you_ are being rude? Like you’re the one here who’s acting crazy?

“She’s my ex.”

She’s the one who’s crazy! She’s been lying- wait.

What.

“Your ex?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Ell. She broke my heart about two years ago. And before you ask, yes, I do happen to have one of those. Shocker.”

The girl is Carmilla’s ex. Carmilla’s ex broke her heart. Oh.

Still, there’s something she’s not telling you, and you’re tired of feeling played.

“I saw you two kissing, Carmilla. Don’t try to deny it, come on.” She’s looking at the ground, she doesn’t even have the guts to look you in the eye. “So if what you’re trying to accomplish here is that I’ll keep this thing with you even though you have a girlfriend only because she has a bad situation at home and you don’t have the balls to break up with her because of that-”

Carmilla is suddenly invading your space and you take a few footsteps back, only to end up with your back against the wall.

And she’s very close. 

And fuck, doesn’t angry sex sound amazing right now.

“She’s my ex. And the kiss was her trying to get back together with me. Because she though that the fact that I’d let her crash at my place for one night, meant that we could go back to how things were before. She wanted us to be together again.”

You’re staring into her eyes, and you can’t for all the money in the world even regain a little bit of the anger you had moments ago. 

You’re totally paralyzed by her closeness. Clearing your throat to regain at least control of some words, you ask her the only thing that matters to you right now.

“Are you?”

She looks at you with a puzzled expression.

“…Together.” You clarify.

Are they together? Is Carmilla thinking about getting back together with her?

If Ell broke her heart, that meant Carmilla was in love with her. At least, back then. Maybe she hadn’t really gotten over her. 

Carmilla’s staring at your lips while she whispers. “No.”

She pulls back and walks off. You’re still staring at the space she’d been seconds before when you hear her door close.

/

_“Why?”_

You turn the note around, but there’s nothing on the back. Laura wants to know why.

And although the question could be referring to a lot of things, you understand.

“Why are you not back together with her?”

Well, you think, there’s a very simple answer for that.

The real question is, are you gonna give Laura that answer?

/

You’re waiting in front of your door, inside your apartment. And yes, you’ve done a lot of stupid shit in your life, so this is just… on more thing to put on the list.

Not a big deal.

Just… waiting for a note. Sitting on the floor.

Everything perfectly normal.

A noise from your bedroom interrupts you’re _very important_ activities.

Reluctantly, you stand up and head in the direction of the annoying music. LaF’s calling you. Maybe they’re concerned about your mental health. You know you’d be in their place.

“Hey, LaF.”

“Dude. I need to tell you something, and I need you to keep quiet until I’m done, ok?”

What is it with everyone complaining about you’re inability to shut up today? It’s not like you talk that much. The others should hear themselves sometimes…

You sigh, while flopping down on your bed.

“Okay.”

“So I was explaining Kirsch the whole thing, because he wouldn’t let me work in peace and he kept asking about Carmilla.” You’ve already opened your mouth to complain when you remember the no-talking rule. “And he was swearing he’d heard the name before. Well, it turns out that Carmilla has a brother, Will, and he’s Kirsch roommate and best bro. They’re kinda gay if you ask me, but I’m not gonna be the one to go and tell him that…”

Krisch? Will? Carmilla’s brother?

You don’t understand what this has to do with anything.

But when you waiting for LaF to resume the explanation, you hear a knock on the door and you instantly forget about everything that they just said.

You run to the entrance with the phone in your ear, and LaF still talking some kind of nonsense to you.

“So when I told Krisch that you though Carmilla had been with a girl the whole time that she’d been flirting with you and stuff, and that you were really hurt, he got pissed. Like, he was mad. Krisch. Can you imagine that? Anyway, the thing is that he went to talk to Will, you know, because he wanted to ask him if Carmilla had a girlfriend…”

You pick up the note on the floor.

“She doesn’t, Laura. She’s totally stupidly hang up on you. She calls Will complaining about how that day you haven’t talked to her, or how annoying it is that you think she just wants to sleep with you…”

You lower the phone and place it on the table when you read Carmilla’s words on the piece of paper.

_“Because of you, you dumbass.”_

Carmilla likes you.

And you feel like an idiot.

Because you were _so not_ right. About _anything_.

But at the same time, you’re so, so happy that you were so wrong.

And you can’t help the huge smile that takes over your face as you hurriedly search for some paper on the table.

_“I’m sorry.”_

You hesitate, before laughing and writing on the back. _“I like you too."_

Opening the door, you look around, but there’s definitely nobody on the hallway, which calms you down, but at the same time disappoints you a little. You want to see Carmilla, you want to touch her.

But you settle for pushing the note underneath her door and waiting for her.

You don’t have to wait for long. Too soon, you hear footsteps, and before you’ve had time to pull yourself together, the door cracks open and Carmilla steps outside.

She stops dead when she sees you. 

You stare at each other for a minute, and then she smirks and slowly raises a hand with a note in it, the letters big enough that you can read them from where you’re standing.

_“You like me? What are you, five?”_

You can’t help but smile even bigger, even though you’re trying to pout. You take a step forward and grab the paper from her. Turning it around, you write a few words.

_“Yeah, it seems like I am.”_

And you stick it on her forehead.

She glares at you (looking ridiculous with a pink post-it stuck on her face) and you stick your tongue at her.

A small smile creeps at her lips as she reads it though, and suddenly she’s got your shirt on her grasp, and she’s pulling you towards her.

“You and me, cupcake. You and me.”

And you kiss her. The moment you feel her smiling against your lips is the moment you know you really, really want to be doing nothing but this for a long time.

You don’t want to be whatever the hell you were until now. You can’t.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

She stops kissing you and stares at you, a dizzy smile still on her lips. Her eyes look so beautiful from so close.

“With me. A date with me.”

She chuckles. And yeah, you’re aware you sound ridiculous but you love her laugh. 

She presses a quick kiss to your mouth, and then she whispers. “A sex date?”

You give her an admonishing look, even though it’s clear she’s just joking. Still, you keep glaring at her because her smile is getting bigger and bigger. “A really kinky sex date?”

“Carmilla.”

She kisses you, this time long and passionately. Her hand is on your face and she keeps caressing the skin on you cheek.

“Yes. Of course I want to go on a date.”

Another kiss.

“With you.”

And then she’s just laughing.

It’s definitely the best sound you’ve ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it.  
> Thank you so, so, so much for all the kudos, and the comments and everything! You're amazing, seriously.  
> 


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